Some may call it love
by FlightAngel
Summary: [ZabuHaku] Haku and Zabuza, before their death. Fluff, light shounenai, yaoi


- - - - - - s. o. m. e. m. a .y. c. a. l. l. i. t. l. o. v. e. - - - - - -

---- - by f.l.i.g.h.t.a.n.g.e.l

- - - - - - - - - d.i.s.c. - - h.a.k.u and z.a.b.u.z.a are not owned by f.l.i.g.h.t.a.n.g.e.l

-------------------------------------------------- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

There was no more bread in the shelter. After staring blankly at the now empty cabinet for about two minutes, Haku finally decided to do something about it. Pulling up his kimono-sleeves (he was clad in his spring-outfit, the pale blue one he'd asked Zabuza to let him buy so he could blend in with the people of the last village they'd been at) he sighed as he stared at the scattered clouds hanging in the sky.

Not really wanting to leave because some dirty no-good raiders might come and destroy the small shelter that had taken him and Zabuza about an hour to properly set up because the older had _insisted_ that his side was correct and that it was Haku's fault that the damn thing kept falling down, he experienced a moment of inner turmoil. After taking into account that there _wouldn't be_ anything for raiders to destroy because Zabuza had taken all his weapons and such with him on his latest scouting and the food, which was bread, was missing, he concluded it was best to go into the village.

Nodding at his own decision, he took up the handbag he had gotten years ago, dark green with pink flower patterns, cast a minor genjutsu over the shelter site anyways, just in case, and left on the road to the nearest village, just down the hill they resided upon. It wasn't a particularly eventful trip downhill, the birds flitting about, sometimes swooping dangerously near the young man's face, like it was a game, the small creatures of the forest scuttling around the bushes, the weather, fine.

When he reached the gates of the village, Haku found it simple to meld into the crowds hustling about in the early morning, gathering supplies, taking care of children, doing daily things that Haku sometimes endlessly craved, then punished himself for craving. Why should he want to be able to have a home, a steady family, someplace where he could be 'normal'? Being a tool was good enough for him, and besides, Zabuza was, in the loosest sense of the word, 'family'. Straightening himself from the crouch he had adopted in his thoughts, he strode purposefully toward the bread stands in search for something that might please his Zabuza.

It was an awful habit he had inside of him—calling Zabuza 'his'. It was, ultimately, ironic because it was Zabuza who owned him. He shouldn't be so clingy to him; he was merely a tool Zabuza could throw away at any time, something that was only allowed to stand by the jounin's side because of his usefulness. Even though outwardly he showed no expression, no regret for the choice he made to be a tool for his Zabuza, inwardly it _hurt_. There would be no way for him _not_ to hurt, as long as he was human. The longer he'd stayed with Zabuza, it seemed, the more affectionate he had grown—first, it was admiration and gratefulness that lead him to follow Zabuza, now, more of that soft feeling he had inside of him. He wanted to please Zabuza, do whatever he wanted, help him in whatever way he can—Zabuza, his _precious person_.

Some may call it love.

"Um, that one please," Haku said pleasantly, pointing to a particular loaf of bread at the corner of the stand, a smile adorning his beautiful face. The vendor, an old man with the most of his scalp bare, smiled back. Haku had, as Zabuza's countless girlfriends (more like one-night stands) had cooed at him, a heart-breaking smile. It was, they had babbled on, one of his best features, after his silky curtain of soft chocolate hair and his smooth, porcelain skin without blemishes. _Beautiful_, they sighed, each the same as the next, _no wonder Zabuza keeps you around_. The way they talked, they seemed jealous. As if Zabuza paid more attention to him then them, which was, Haku reasoned, absolutely ridiculous. Zabuza didn't look at him as anything besides a tool, something to be used. You did not love your kunai, or your sword, more then real people.

"Here's your change," the vendor said, and Haku smiled again, delicately deposited the coins into his handbag, and headed downtown to find some packaged bread he could buy. _I know I shouldn't_, he said regretfully as he looked down at the specially-made loaf he had bought from that artisan-vendor, _spend more money than necessary on our essentials… but I wanted to please Zabuza-san tonight, no matter if he scolds me or not_.

_Fool_, Zabuza would probably snarl, snatching the loaf away from the youth, _you should have spent the money you paid for this expensive thing on buying more normal bread_! Haku sighed as he carefully opened the door to another shop, this time to buy some cheaper, less-tasteful bread in packages from the convenient store. It didn't matter as much to him if Zabuza reprimanded him—things like this, the older didn't pay that much attention to and most of his scolding were just painful reminders that Haku was just a—_tool, hopeless thing, not a human, something that needed to be punished, a failure, someone who lived for another, desperate_—helper, someone who would never stand on the same level as Zabuza as long as he lived.

"Three packages," he informs the clerk, and she nods and wordlessly goes to get his order. _Sad eyes_, people used to inform him when he and Zabuza would pass through town, Haku holding onto his Bunny-chan and walking alongside his Jounin master, _Mister, I don't know what's going on, but that kid has such sad eyes it could break your heart_. Sad eyes? Haku would look at his reflection on the water, do I have sad eyes?

Got the same eyes as me, Zabuza would answer and that was all Haku needed. What was it called, when you felt so elated when that _one person_ gave you an approving glance, a smile, a look that said _good job_, made you feel so happy that you could barely contain it all and had to let it out with a smile? _Beautiful smile_, _heart-wrenching, heart-breaking, usually, but sometimes full of such laughter and joy you can almost read Haku-chan's heart!_ He remembered that girl, the little brunette Zabuza had laid with in the hotel room at the last town, where Zabuza had ordered him to stand against the wall and watch what they were doing.

_Look,_ Zabuza demanded as he hitched up the girl's skirts and unzipped his own pants, _and see how _worthless_ sex can become_. And that was what the young man did, stood there and watched as, without love, compassion, or even mercy, Zabuza had his way with the girl, how she screamed and how Haku thought, _If she's hurting so bad why'd she let him do it to her in the first place? If it hurts, why doesn't she resist_? When it was all over and done with, Zabuza left to clean himself off, leaving Haku and the panting woman alone. She lifted her head up from the bed; sweat beaded her face, voice raspy from screaming.

_You're her right?_ She asked him, panting, _he talks of you. I see the rumors are true. You truly _are_ a beauty. No wonder he keeps you by his side_. Haku hadn't felt like providing an answer to that statement, not even bothering to correct the woman that no, he was not a girl, he was a frickin' man for goodness' sake, even though he'd always tried to be like a woman. From early on he'd realized that Zabuza was much more attracted to women then men, preferred it for Haku to be feminine then masculine, found it easier to deal with. Haku lived to please. He did as he was told, like an obedient machine, never questioning, never asking those painful questions, _what am I really? Why do I feel this way? Is it wrong_? and standing by the sidelines, watching until Zabuza said, _Haku!_ That was his cue to come out and prove his usefulness, his worth, make Zabuza pleased with him and maybe earn a _good job, that was just how I taught it_ from him afterwards.

_What are you talking about_, Haku answered the girl, and she moved, her breath hitched in pain, _I'm not important to Zabuza. I'm his tool._

_You don't see_? She asked him, frailly, _I guess both of you are really blind after all_.

"Here you are, a thousand yen please. Thank you, have a nice day." The clerk was monotone, though Haku had long since learned to feign disinterest with such people. Placing the barley bread into his handbag alongside the special loaf he'd bought, he headed up the hill in his pink sandals, humming. The sun was at its peak right now, being it high noon, and Haku untangled his genjutsu web and placed the bread into the cabinet. Looking towards the burnt-out fireplace, a memory shook his bones, one that even he hadn't properly remembered until now.

It had been cold, so cold those days, and even though Haku was so used to the cold already he never realized how _chilling_ the days could get at that time, didn't realize how _hot_ he could feel even though it was cold. _Zabuza,_ he had said uncertainly, _I'm hot_.

_You kidding_? The man had turned around and glared at the boy with scrutiny. _Damn, you've got a fever._ Easily hauling the little child, no more then seven, over his shoulder, the current Haku watched his memory-Zabuza carry him over under a canopy of trees, where the snow was thin. He watched as memory-Haku coughed and wheezed and kept muttering, _I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm being so troublesome, I shouldn't be troubling you, sorry, sorry, sorry…_ as Zabuza warmed up a wet cloth over a meager fire he'd managed to start in the snowfall, watched as the memory-jounin placed the thing upon his younger self's head.

_Go to sleep_, the older man ordered, and his murmurings quieted, _you can't train like that. _

Haku watched memory-Zabuza slowly walk away, his younger self closing his eyes, fever causing his temples to ache, his breathing to become shallow, whole body to overheat in the midst of a chilling atmosphere that threatened to swallow everything up. He remembered, distantly, falling into a slow, but sure, blackness that promised peace and no pain, promised that it would all be better when he woke up. He remembered, now, someone removing the towel and hands, rough and calloused, stroking back his thin chocolate hair, stroking back in such a soothing, caring manner that caused that last of the boy's consciousness to be assured, and to fall into a true sleep that he held for two days straight, long after the snow had subsided.

_He used to do that a lot,_ Haku quietly sat, legs folded neatly under him as he thought to himself, waiting for his Zabuza to come home, _never afraid to touch me. He patted my head, stroked my hair, and, in a whole, treated me like a child, or a doll. He didn't mind doing little things for me, like recapturing Bunny-chan when he ran away, or letting me a small doll I saw at a carnival_. But not anymore. Haku felt it every time they moved, walked, talked, how Zabuza had distanced himself from him. _I am a tool,_ he reminded himself, _Zabuza-san should not even give me a passing glance. I deserve it; I am just something that will help him reach his goal_.

It hurt, however, hurt so badly because he craved that attention still. Craved Zabuza patting him on the head, giving him one or two kind words, an approving glance. And he hated himself for craving. _I should not crave, I am a tool, I am something that Zabuza uses, I should not want, I can't…_ His feelings were fluttering about, everywhere, all over the place. He had started looking at Zabuza slightly differently, felt odd whenever they bathed together now, as if it was some crime to look at the older man's well-toned body, even though he'd seen it many times before, how he had assumed the role of a mother or sister or such, buying supplies, waiting for Zabuza to come home, how he had now reinforced his goal with feelings unbeknownst to him.

"Haku." The deep, cold voice he'd known so well slowly pronouncing his name slashes through the murmuring thoughts lingering his mind, "Here, put this with the rest of the stash."

"I'm glad you have had a safe return, Zabuza-san," Haku said, obviously relieved and pleased, though discreetly hiding it, obediently taking the money thrust into his hand and placing it into his pocket. The money in his handbag was just enough to buy supplies, but nowhere near how much they had in their savings. The older man nodded at the youth's carefully worded comment and squatted down on the earth, cracking his neck and looking extremely foul-tempered. Haku looked upon him with genuine concern.

"Damn, at this rate we may not have enough money to have a shot at that old geezer by our deadline. Dammit. Dammit all." He growled to himself as Haku fluidly glided over to where his master was, behind him, hands delicate as he placed them on Zabuza's shoulders and started to carefully massage his sore muscles. Though the older man's face immediately softened up and lost its hardness as the youth got to work, his voice was still the same—set and thick with an unbound fury stemming from the depths of his well-worn heart, "I wanted to get there at spring, where the nin withdraw from the boundaries and are heading back to the village—that's where he'd be the weakest… but I don't have enough money to hire enough mercenaries, and not enough time to go and find some more strays like you." There was a breathy pause in the massaging, _what do you mean, more strays? Well, I'm just a tool… I was foolish to think that Zabuza only needed one tool to complete his mission, but I'm thankful he hasn't enough time to get anymore… no, why am I thinking this? I shouldn't care what _I _wanted; I'm just an instrument that Zabuza is using to achieve his goal… an instrument…_before it firmly continued, first at the shoulder, then slowly down his back. Haku's mother had taught him acupuncture, after all, and acupuncture was usually accented by bouts of massaging to get the muscles to loosen up before placing the needles in.

"I'm sure there are many ninja out there looking for you skills, Zabuza," Haku said, humming a little under his breath as he worked down to the jounin's lower back, "Maybe you should aim higher?"

"What do you think I'm doing?" Zabuza spat out, hunching over and causing Haku's hands to slip for a moment. He waited for his young companion to start massaging again before continuing, "There aren't a lot of people willing to start riots, you know. The only person who I have a shot at right now is that Gatou, Gito, Goti, whatever person, and I heard he's a bastard." Haku doesn't say anything, and Zabuza didn't expect him to. Instead, the youth is fascinated with the muscles in the back he was massaging.

_I wonder how long it took for Zabuza-san to get so many_, He wondered to himself, hands gentle as they carefully pressed out any knots or sore spots that had built up in the midst of battle, _of course, he always trains by himself in the morning without me, so he's got a little more exercise then me. Not only that, he's older, smarter, stronger, faster… but yet, somehow, he trusts my word, my powers of observation… _"…so what are you planning to do?"

"Look around," Zabuza answered slowly, voice half-hitched in pleasure. Haku was _very_ good at this kind of stuff; he must remind himself to ask the boy to do things like this more often. "Try to find another employer—if I can't find one, we'll just have to stoop at Gatou's knees." Haku was silent in agreement, head titled in an eccentrically beautiful manner, ecstatic that Zabuza had used the word 'we' instead of 'I'. It still shook him, even though the older man had been using that particular term every since Haku had started becoming skilled enough to follow him into battle. _We'll head left_, Haku remembers Zabuza telling him the first time they went out on a team mission, _you, creating a clone as a decoy, then pouncing on the guy from behind. I'll attack then from the right, so he flees left, where you are, and you trap him. Got that?_

Those were the first times. After a few careful observations, he began understanding Zabuza's thoughts, reading his movements, mind, so that he didn't need a verbal order to process what Zabuza's plan for action was. He leaned forward a little; almost pressing his small nose against the jounin's skin—_smells good… hm…_--and stayed that way until Zabuza said, "Ok, Haku, start the fire. I'm going to go over my charts inside."

"Yes, Zabuza-san." Haku replied, letting his hands fall back to his sides as the older man towered over him, stretching, and headed under the shelter. Gathering his wood and flint, he easily struck up a glowing, ember-dashed fire that accented his cheekbones and hairline as he leaned over to smile warmly at it. After all, it was the thing that kept the shelter going as long as they stayed here.

"Eh? Haku, what's this?" Inwardly wincing, the feminine youth glided over to where Zabuza was staring at the bread carefully arranged in the cabinet, "Eh?" In his palm, he was holding the expensive loaf the younger nin had purchased that morning. Haku waited in anticipation for another one of Zabuza's reprimandings.

"I…thought it would cheer you up to eat something slightly better then barley after you came home." Haku whispered carefully, head tucked under in a sort of underlying obedient posture. Zabuza's eyes hardened a brief moment before he observed the youth carefully with his head a little tilted to the side.

"Fool." was all he said before stuffing the thing into his mouth and, without another word, walking out under the quickly darkening sky. Haku stared after him, faintly surprised. _Remember, Haku_, the man had told him at the dawn of his tenth birthday, _being a shinobi is serious—everything is important. One piece of bread is a worth a whole lot more then a half a piece of bread. Nothing goes to waste, and nothing _must_ go to waste, you got that_?

_Hm_, Haku had nodded and the conversation had ended at that moment. Touching his chilled cheek a moment, delicately, fragilely, as if reminding himself that yes, he was here, he was still somehow by Zabuza's side, he stared after his master. _Then what was that just now?_

After scouting around the area some more (Zabuza had gotten the money from some raiders that had bounties over their heads he'd captured at the outskirts of the village), the two settled down for the night. Zabuza just simply and viciously stuck his large sword-thing into the ground, flipped open his sleeping bag and flopped inside of it. Haku, being much more delicate, carefully undid the tie holding his kimono together and slipped it off his lithe, pale body, folding it up neatly beside his sleeping area. Only clothed in a small tang top and short white pants, he carefully undid his hair, slender fingers wrapping themselves over his tangles and tugging them out. It hurt, but it was a dull physical pain. He was used to dull physical pain.

He had a moment of pride as he gently combed his hair with his fingers, soft and richly colored a dark chocolate brown, hanging straight like a beautiful curtain around his face. He knew it was a sin to feel such… pride… for his physical being, and that his hair was just another worthless piece of him that could be cut off anytime Zabuza so pleased. It wasn't that its beauty defined Haku's self-worth—it defined his whole being; a beautiful thing that was pleasing, but just as easily destroyed, sometimes for no reason at all. Satisfied that most knots had been smoothed out, he tucked the strands behind his shoulder, gently slipped his slender feet into his sleeping bag and fell into the customary light sleep shinobi were taught to adopt, just in case an enemy tried to attack them in their slumber.

There was no disturbances, no noise, besides the soft chattering of the wildlife, the buzzing of the insects, the wispy moans blown by the winds. Haku's consciousness flourished underneath his light coverlet of sleep, going back to all the points he'd considered this day, every day, the questions that had slowly surfaced into his mind these past years, about everything: his usefulness, his place, his Zabuza…

Suddenly, he felt something lightly touch his hair, and he was about to instinctively attack when he recognized Zabuza's chakra signature. Puzzled at what the man was doing, he concentrated on keeping his breathing steady and shallow, as if he was still vaguely under a light slumber, as Zabuza's hand settle gently into his hair and started stroking it in a… in a… _fond_ manner. Every touch was like a chilling spark against his skin, like blue fire dancing both inside and out, reassuring him that everything was alright, and that _no matter what happens as long as we stay together its fine_. Haku was very still, heart beating ferociously in his chest as Zabuza-san continued to stroke his hair back from his face, unable to stop the flood of warmth filling his chest.

_You're her right? He talks of you. I see the rumors are true. You truly _are_ a beauty. No wonder he keeps you by his side_

The words, faintly echoing inside his mind, fade away as his consciousness unwillingly fell into a true sleep, a true restful state where he could dream about a different situation, where he and Zabuza didn't have to face death's door every day, didn't have to skulk around each other acting out roles they didn't really feel, didn't have to pretend and act like they were nothing but master and tool.

Because some may call it love.

- - - - - e. n. d. - - - - -

--------------- - - - - - - - - - - - - - n. o. t. e. s

sweeter, more zabuhaku or hakuzabu then the other one (this one they have a romantic love relationship then one of fatherly love). enjoy? please r/r, thank you. yes, not the best fic you've ever read.


End file.
